


Domesticity

by havesomefun



Series: Beauyasha in Modern Times: A saga [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, My formula means smut in odd numbered chapters, So skip to or fro the nasty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23918476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havesomefun/pseuds/havesomefun
Summary: Yasha's POV of a story set a little into the future.The Mighty Nein are a bit older now and things didn't turn out exactly as everybody thought they would. Beau and Yasha, for once, never got together even though they were made for each other.Yep, it was not the time then, but, then again, it couldn't be the time now. Right?
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Beauyasha in Modern Times: A saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724074
Kudos: 30





	1. Began curiously

**Author's Note:**

> some spoilers up until episode 96 ahead, so be aware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story goes mostly the same, just adding some content and filling in plot holes.

“Oh, fucking great!”

It had to happen. It just had to do as it does, one more time, time again. Meaningless, repetitive, inconsequential. Things tend to take on a pattern these days, one of very little importance. There’s no clear path ahead. Days rise, night falls. If the loss of purpose had a soundtrack, it probably would sound like a fly buzzing too close to your ear, not sure where it comes from or how to make it stop.

As she takes a deep breath, Yasha wishes that, for once, another guy didn’t spill his drink all over her arm, soaking up her flannel again. 

“I’m sorry. He’s sorry.”

Yasha sighs and nods along to the guy taking his more intoxicated friend away. She’s not really angry per se, maybe a little frustrated, the expletive slipping out as an unfortunate reflex during a too introspective moment. So, she walks away, holding her arm away from the rest of her body. It just feels like she’s stuck in a loop, like she remembers doing this before, walking across the bar in a silly pose and looking forward to returning home already. 

Still, she’s glad some things stay the same. Sitting at their regular booth, she spots the Mighty Nein, as weird and misfit as usual. Jester is leaning over the table, talking loudly over the chatter around, and the rest pay attention, hurdled closer together in a familiar way, like good friends do. As much as they insist they have changed, in her eyes they all look the same as the first time they walked into this bar, with the notable exception of Caduceus’ hair and even more tragic absence of Mollymauk. It brings a bittersweet smile to Yasha’s face and she almost regrets wasting precious time together with another set at the gym, when Jester interrupts her speech to find her.

“Yasha!”

She waves her over and Yasha does her best to swerve around this fire-code-violation swarm of people. While her trusted flannel getting destroyed serves as sort of deja-vu of these same things happening again and again, out of her control, the bar has changed quite a bit in the years they have frequented it, getting more crowded, air stuffy and warm.

“Sorry I’m late guys. I got held up but I’m here” she apologizes. Fjord asks about the drenched arm, flannel now feeling too soaked to be wearable, and she yields reluctantly to the stench of spilled beer, deciding to go with only her tank top for the evening. Funny enough, the removal of her comfort-blanket type shirt is the first choice she makes to break the loop in so long. 

As she sits, however, her vision zeros-in on Beau and a most familiar feeling takes over her. Arm slung on the back of the booth, more comfortable in her own skin that Yasha will ever be, it’s Beauregard Lionett; she watches as Yasha arrives with a nod and a grin, wearing that comfortable dark, glittered cropped top and obnoxiously silvery baggy pants. Not to get too mushy, but it has to be celebrating anniversaries at this point, this pining she has going for Beau. No, Yasha still not sure when it even started, can’t pinpoint exactly when she started blushing at her mere presence, maybe she has ever since she laid her eyes on her, but now her feelings are one of those constants, unchanging things Yasha’s learned to embrace over the years. 

At first, it was cute, a silly infatuation with her hot friend and Yasha thought herself another one of those subject to the undeniable attraction Beau exudes around her. She would never admit it, but, for some time, all Yasha could think about was running her fingers in that luscious brown hair. Beau keeps it in a bun over an undercut and all Yasha ever wanted was to run her fingers through it, from root to tip, see how it sprays out beneath her and look into her dazzling blue eyes before kissing that defiant smirk off her face. She could fantasize lying in those tan, toned arms, arms of lean muscles and defined lines, of abs and collarbones and thighs and calves. It was so immediate and visceral that for the first days they met she could barely talk, much less respond to any flirting, or getting-to-knowings, anything, really.

Then, it went deeper. It’s weird in a way, because she’s very aware of what those feelings mean, having had them before, with Zuala, and, once she notices them as regarding to Beau, she can’t unsee it anymore. In every little thing, she sees Beau for what she is, smart and lively, brazen and daring, so full of life. Beau is someone she could spend her life with, and still, from afar Yasha admires, because reality is they never got to be anything more than friends. Not lovers, not potential paramours, not anything else. 

Deep inside, she misses the unabashed flirting they, mostly Beau to her, shared in the beginning, still she can’t remember when it stopped, graduating to this sadly too platonic arrangement. Probably around the time they became real friends, but at what cost? The truth is, there’s no time for them then, and it could never be time again, could it?

Beau gets up suddenly and Yasha sees her go to bar. With a shake of her head, Yasha snaps out of her reveries, chastising herself for trysting over Beau instead of participating in the conversation taking place in front of her. Tonight, her friends are here and she should be enjoying it, but her mind keeps wondering back to Beau, wondering if this is where she wants to be, for the umpteenth time, at the same place, with the same unresolved feelings. Her heart grows heavy and Yasha gets up abruptly, Fjord giving her a look when she mumbles something about helping Beau at the bar, taking whatever excuse just so she can clear her head a bit. 

Immersed in thought, she trudges carefully around the other patrons, ending up stumbling into Beau when one of them pushes her into the bar. Instantly, Beau raises her fists, ready to punch whoever held her by the shoulders and Yasha freezes in place, removing her hand with an embarrassed nod. 

“Wow, hey. I just came to help” Yasha makes up on the spot “I should be getting these anyway. I was late.”

“Nah” Beau refuses, eyes turning back to the bartender “I got these.”

“Ok” Yasha steps back, noticing the proximity between Beau and the girl at the bar. 

A quick wave of jealousy hits her, soon replaced by a tinge of sadness. Yasha can’t say she has an easy time watching Beau go off with whatever number of girls she picks up night after night, but she can’t blame her either for not wanting to pick up Yasha, for once. Too accustomed to this nasty feeling of rejection, Yasha wants to get away as quickly as possible, so she gathers the drinks at the same time her suspicious are too-well confirmed when the bartender slips a hand onto Beau’s to whisper in her ear. They have a short conversation Yasha refuses to hear and Beau rejoins her with a blush a moment later.

“Oh, I see” Yasha does her best to brush it off like she always does “Go on, I’ll go to the table and give you space.”

“No, no. I wasn’t, I was just… she came onto me.”

It makes her jealousy flare up again, a feeling that this unremarkable stranger’s already closer to Beau than Yasha is after all these years. She takes a deep breath before continuing to move around a group of friends cramming the dancefloor but, to her dismay, Beau goes on about the bartender.

“We hooked up once when I was really drunk but apparently I wasn’t too bad, so she called me up.”

Yasha doesn’t even know how to respond to that, gulping a “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah. But I think I’ll pass.”

Beau says that when they’re sitting and Yasha understands, kind of, sort of. Beau can do whatever she wants, with whoever she wants, or not, and Yasha just wished she could be that confident, do the same with Beau herself. Fjord asks about that and Yasha answers absentmindedly as she hands out drinks.

“Who are you and what have you done with Beauregard? She’s an imposter! Kill her!” Veth yells, in her best Nott persona, holding a napkin as a knife towards Beau. Yasha smiles, gazing the outrageous reaction with glee. Among the things she’s glad never change, is Nott, which what they call when their short friend gets too feral or reckless, a homage to Nott the Brave, the goblin of stories told. Meanwhile, Beau holds her hands in a “don’t shoot” motion.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I’m just, I feel, I’m cool here, all right? Besides, been there, done that.”

Yasha chuckles at her adorable cockiness, a kind of solace in the familiarity of discussing Beau’s conquests, or failed attempts at a conquest, with her friends and she feels a little less lost in the motions. Caduceus interjects in between the two.

“Moving on, I was hoping you could attend a party for my birthday. I’m staying for a few more weeks and it’ll be fun to, you know, celebrate.”

“Two years in a row in Zadash?” Caleb notes “We’re feeling lucky.”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be almost the same, I guess, I just have to order the drinks.”

The table perks up at that, discussing drink options and more excited for the party than anything. Yasha feels her eyes darts over to Beau every now and then, like a glutton to a banquet, but the night goes on uneventful, unceremonious, unremarkable. By the end of it, Yasha is putting Fjord in a taxi, and only her and Beau stay back. 

“Tonight was fun” Yasha muses, feeling relaxed, yet a bit chilly. By now, her flannel should be dryer so she might as well put it back on; she should probably throw it away actually, but the beer smells have died down, at least. Beau watches her through it, her blue eyes especially dark in this low light.

“It really was, we are best at parties.”

Beau grins a crocked smile in a way that makes Yasha laugh without thinking. For a moment, her smile matches the reflection of night lights and Yasha averts her eyes to the street to stop from blushing. Cars still go by at this hour, getting scarcer by the minute, yet her heart swells with unexplored possibilities, yearning for anything new. This time, she’s feeling things may go differently, or she wants it to, anyway.

“I kinda don’t want it to end” Yasha confesses.

“Then let’s not. I have booze at my place and we control the playlist.”

This takes Yasha by surprise. Usually by this time of the night, Yasha goes on her merry way while Beau is taking some girl home, saying goodbyes on their way out. This time, though, she’s instead looking to Yasha, asking for her. Of course, Beau could do that, always could, invite Yasha over for the first time, by herself. Not that she’d never invited her over, but this time it’s late at night, it could be something else. And Beau does find her attractive, that much is for sure, so Yasha could be the girl Beau wants to take home, is taking home, and, truth be told, there’s very little she wants more than to know what’s like to be one of Beau’s one night only. 

So, her delusional heart does somersaults as her brain goes haywire at the possibility of breaking a pattern and the word slips out Yasha’s mouth before she can stop to really think about it.

“Ok”. 

A few minutes later, they get to Beau’s apartment. It’s like she remembers, small and warm, the great panoramic view of Zadash across the wide window and everything seems to catch up to her at once. Outside, the city speaks in moments of silence and moments of sounds, wheels on the streets, the odd scream, a laughter. An anticipation lingers beneath her skin, like she’s seeing it for the first time, and allowing herself to do new things she wanted to but never got to before. It’s the most alive she’s felt in so long, but she’s interrupted when Beau calls out for her somewhere in the back of her brain.

“Oh. Yeah. Whatever” she answers, not caring about whatever drink Beau’s offered.

She hears Beau opening the fridge and her gaze turns back to the window as even the sounds of her friend opening a wine bottle hold out hope for what the night will bring. She’s pictured this moment so many times, when she would get to kiss the girl she loves, maybe more, and nothing compares to the raw excitement that’s coursing through her veins. She wants to say so many things, do so many things, that what she ends up doing is just standing around. Beau, on the other hand, goes around her house with ease and hands her a glass of the chilled wine.

“We should let it breathe for a bit, or whatever. I just thought the bitterness and nutty smells would be nice to remove the aftertaste of that beer. Or whatever.”

It brings a smile to Yasha’s face, this bit Beau has with the wine, a fragment of flirting that has her transported back to when Beau would call her eyes as beautiful as a swamp. Back then, Beau was worried about not sounding arrogant like her parents, but Yasha’d always found it fascinating, this inherited knowledge of the finer things in life. She clinks their glasses together and, for the first time in so long, tries to flirt back. 

“You know, I was a bit surprised when the bartender just offered herself. It seemed so easy. And for you too, just getting drinks then having girls falling at your feet.”

“What? No? What?” Beau blushes “It only happens some time. Usually I am the one going around and failing miserably.”

“That’s not true” Yasha states, clocking the coy pull of her lips in Beau’s grin.

“No, it really isn’t. I usually get the girl.”

They laugh, Beau sporting that easy smile and Yasha sees it again, that thing that made her fall. It was so long ago, yet it’s still here, and she’s still thoroughly intoxicated by it.

“You once said there was something about me that people wanted.” Yasha confides “Well, I feel like there is something about you too. I saw that before and I see it now.”

"What do you mean?"

"I think it is who you are, you know? You are so sure all the time, so confident. You make your moves and it is for sure a gamble whether it works but, I mean, your track record speaks volumes.” Yasha almost laughs at the irony of it all “Really, you picked me up at the bar with the ‘I have booze at my place’. Now that I think about it was one of your best pick-up lines. Thank you for that."

At that, Beau stops sipping her drink and blinks, lost for a moment. Yasha waits, watching her face twist in cute lines.

“What?” Beau sounds genuinely confused and Yasha can’t see why she’s still playing coy. So, she tells how picked up on Beau’s signs. 

"You asked me to your apartment late at night and I know you like how I look 'cause you say I am hot like a lot, so I said yes."

Beau doesn’t answer for some time more and Yasha starts to worry. She did read the signs and chose to come over. That’s what Beau does with the girls she wants to hook up with, right? The bar, the drinks, the flirting. But, then again, she also does this with her friends sometimes and maybe, just maybe, Yasha might have been mistaken. 

“Unless you don't want to hook up with me." Yasha searches Beau’s eyes and finds only confusion. Suddenly, the possibility she might have read what she wanted into Beau’s invite makes Yasha turns to the city once more, putting on the stony façade she’s familiar with. “That's okay too. I guess we are friends.”

“No. No!” Beau shouts. "I mean, we are friends, but I do wanna hook up with you. Of course I wanna hook up with you, you are Yasha for fuck’s sake. You would be the one who wouldn't want to hook up with me, really."

The notion Yasha wouldn’t want Beau is so absurd she won’t even entertain it, preferring kicking herself for wishing for something more; she should just apologize for the mix up, and Beau would forgive her. Yasha knows Beau has women throwing themselves at her feet, so this has to have happened to her and Beau could just dismiss it as Yasha being drunk after a night out, probably. The thing is, she doesn’t want to lie to her friend and her voice gets low and small.

“But I do. I came here. In your apartment. It's late."

"I know! But friends can go to each other's apartment late and not hook up! Right, I'm right. Am I not right?"

"Oh. I see" Yasha looks away and curses herself for ever thinking things could be different. She has to train her face again, again numb and unfeeling, and waits for Beau to mock her stupidity, or just kick her out of the apartment.

Instead, Beau sets her glass down near her and looks up expectantly “So you wanna hook up with me?”

“Yes” she sighs. It’s getting harder to explain that she saw some inexistent signs in Beau’s actions without sounding like pathetic, so she whispers, mortified “It’s late.”

Yasha wants to disappear into the city below when Beau exclaims out of nowhere “Great! So, you wanna hook up with me, I know I wanna hook up with you, always have, not a big deal, never mind, how do we do this?"

Yasha’s mind reels back and forth. All of the sudden she seems to be back into this hooking up thing and Yasha is having a hard time understanding why. Mostly, why would Beau asking her how to hook up anyway? She is the one who does this here, Yasha is the one who reads everything wrong. Her thoughts find their way out loud, somehow. 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this.” 

"Right, right!" Beau exhales, looking like she’s making some sort of decision. 

Having Beau reject her is Yasha’s worse nightmare but having her want her after all of this is getting so far-fetched that Yasha is still trying to gage what is happening when Beau reaches to grab her untouched wine glass and set it down. Then, she takes Yasha’s hands and move them to her slim waist while sliding her own hands over to her shoulders. Yasha’s stuck in place, like a deer in headlights, but, when Beau’s fingers burrow into the back of her neck, a sigh leaves her lips, fingers involuntarily flexing on the muscles on Beau’s waist. Her skin is hot and taut, unlike the cold, chapped lips Beau lays on hers, pulling closer. It’s slow and languid, consuming all of Yasha’s doubts, and she leans down to reach Beau’s smaller frame and give herself into their kiss.

Unhurriedly, it grows heavy and wanting, Beau’s lips moving harder against hers and Yasha pulls her closer still when Beau tugs hard on her hair and delves her tongue into Yasha’s gasping mouth. It drives her to press her fingers harder into Beau’s lower back, Yasha herself releasing a moan at Beau’s answering pant. They stumble back intertwined, trying to not fall over each other and, for a second, they part and breathe in together. Beau has a devilishly defiant look to her, mouth agape trying to catch her breath, cheeks flushed, and Yasha wonders if she looks as wrecked as well.

"This good enough for you?" Beau quips, voice laced with lust.


	2. Steaming and Conversing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Yasha is love sick but she still fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccc

"This good enough for you?" Beau says and Yasha smirks back, still not sure how this is actually happening.

“Yes. I liked that.” 

Beau yanks her down and attacks her neck with licks and bites, making Yasha’s mind go fuzzy. It’s rough and hot, relentless, and Yasha feels her flannel slipping off, so she tosses it across the room, grabbing on the back of Beau’s head to press her licks even deeper into her neck. A delicious heat spreads from between her legs and her hand moves on its own, going to grab onto Beau’s tight ass. It feels as delectable in her hands as she always imagined, so Yasha squeezes harder, shuffling her feet to plant a thigh between Beau’s and let her hips do the rest, rutting against Beau’s exposed abs with abandon. She hears Beau moaning at that, and Yasha leans down further to cover the distance their height difference creates.

They connect their lips again and get to biting and licking in an increasingly frantic pace. Beau keeps moaning as Yasha pulls her closer and harder, uncapable of thinking of anything past the lick and bites and the wetness quickly gathering between her thighs. She’s overwhelmed, inadvertently crushing Beau’s smaller frame into her arms, and the best part is Beau seems to be enjoying it, drinking their shared whimpers and pants.

“Enough” Beau gasps, briefly escaping Yasha's lips "Clothes. Off. Now."

And she couldn’t agree more. Unwilling to get rid of that sweet pressure, Yasha keeps Beau locked between her legs as she pulls her too hot and sweaty tank top off, along with her bra. She can still swear her hair smells disgustingly like beer, but with her chest bare Yasha feels like she can breathe easier, if not for the way Beau looks at her with some sort of awe and desire that she would feel self-conscious about if she wasn’t so far gone this point. With a bite to her lip, Beau teases her hands up Yasha’s sides, nodding to a door behind her not too far to the left.

"Okay, we are going to have to make our way to my room because what I want to do with you is going to require a bed."

Yasha shudders, her mind rushing to think of a million Beau could make good on her words, and pulls on her hands down her ass. Before she can lift her up though, Beau slips away from her grasp and joins their hands together. Yasha lets her pull them towards the room, taking the time to commit that bratty smile on Beau’s face to memory, a sight she’s not soon to forget. 

Once there, Beau immediately pushes her onto the bed. She attacks again, sucking and biting Yasha’s breasts from her lap, in a way Yasha can’t help but to get lost in the not-so gentle bites to her neck, and shoulders and nipples. Yasha was never one to feel arousal at someone leaving deep, stinging marks, but the way Beau is so determinate in it, using her teeth and tongue and nails across that every single inch of her upper torso it has Yasha much closer to the edge than she expected. Embarrassingly, she can no longer hold back whimpers and grunts of frustration which keep getting louder at each received bite.

Still, Beau doesn’t let up, having set out to cover her torso in purpling bruises, and Yasha has a hard time reaching for any of her clothes, stuck with the highly sensitive feeling of her bare chest rubbing against the other’s top and Beau’s grinding on her lap making it too hot inside her own jeans. Her hands find Beau’s ass, and thighs, and arms, but can’t grab onto anything, too week, too hot, too wet to do anything to recover some of her control over the situation, so she does the next best thing and covers her mouth with her hand, trapping her grunts when a particular movement of Beau’s hips gets her in the right angle against the seam of her jeans. 

“You don’t have to hold back” Beau breathes out as she leans back, hands roaming where her mouth had just been “I like hearing you.”

Frustrated, Yasha takes the moment that Beau has slowed down to realize that she’s way too far gone this early. Maybe it’s her giant of a crush, making everything feel so much special and hot after so much longing, but now she can’t really control her panting and her jeans are chafing against her core like it’s too good to be true. Either way it was just about to mean that everything would be over too soon and that would not do, oh, no.

“I have to.” Yasha admits reluctantly. 

“No, you don-” Beau gets interrupted mid-sentence by Yasha gathering her remaining strength and flipping them over on the bed, quite literally, turning it around. It gives enough pull to hold onto Beau’s wrists and move them over her head, her own hips still grinding against Beau’s abs, now with better leverage. It feels too good to stop, yet too close for comfort, and Beau’s greedy gasps ring against her ears. All at once, Yasha remembers of a deeper need, a more important promise standing right in from of her.

“Keep them up while I undress you” Yasha instructs, still fighting her own distracting urges to lean back to release Beau’s wrists.

At that, Beau bites lip again and gives an eager nod, intriguing Yasha well enough that she takes a moment to glance over what’s laid before her. There, hands astride, chest up, is Beau, spread out under her thighs with a full flush face and neck, her collarbones protruding with the energy to keep still and her top brunched up and showing more of that so-welcomed midriff that featured so heavily on Yasha’s most naughty dreams. If she were to guess, Yasha would’ve expected Beau to put up a greater fight, but apparently her seductress of a friend was happy to just sit back and enjoy the show, and Yasha would damn right give her one.

Putting her own patience to the test, Yasha touches Beau slowly, letting herself cool down while creeping up her thighs, meticulously untying her sweatpants strings and bringing them down without as much as a touch to her skin. Beau whimpers when she traces up her calves with feather light kisses, actually sighing and squirming in place when Yasha gets to her hips. Something about Beau’s obedient demeanor makes Yasha want to eat her alive, wild thoughts taking over her brain as her nails dig into Beau’s hip bone possessively.

"Can I move now? I'm kinda bad at staying still." Beau quips and it elicits a chuckle from Yasha, who can clearly see Beau’s disposition to let her take charge.

"Really? I wouldn't know" Yasha teases, finally letting herself revel in the hunger within and run her fingers over that smooth skin to remove Beau's cropped top and bra.

Beau lets her take them off, then instantly pulls their chests together, tangling her feet behind Yasha’s back. She starts kissing Yasha again, this time sloppy and full of teeth, using the sting of her nails to rip a wanton moan from Yasha’s lips. Her head gets dizzy again, arousal coming back with a vengeance, so Yasha grabs Beau and pulls them both up the bed, sinking her fingers into the luscious brown hair to snap the tie off and spill the often-tied locks onto the pillow below. It’s like she pictured it, the sea of brown hair she rarely gets to see except from a few of their shared sleepovers, and now it frames the most beautiful picture of a thoroughly ruined Beauregard. 

“You are so pretty all flushed hot and bothered", Yasha smiles.

Beau flushes, fidgeting with her hands in a cute way “Well, you're fucking hot, okay? And I'm trying to get laid here."

Yasha chuckles, finding she can still trust Beau to find her attractive even with her misunderstandings, and ducks her head down. Beau grabs her by the roots of her hair, holding Yasha’s head as it’s now her turn to her breasts sucked, and groped, nipples getting hard and stiff. All she can do is whine when Yasha gets to teasing them with her teeth, moving at a maddening slow pace. 

Beau’s hips go back to moving, pressing up and hard, so Yasha holds her by the hips, unwilling to let herself get distracted again. Yet, her hold doesn’t deter Beau in the least, who instead doubles her movement, hands straining against the mattress. Yasha’s possessiveness flares up at the defiance, using her hips to trap Beau between her legs, all the while boosted by the high-pitched, feminine noises that Beau cries, louder each time and with even more desperation. It’s beautiful, Yasha thinks, that she can get Beau this eager and frantic; she’s so lucky that she gets to seek Beau’s release.

"Anything you want in particular?" Yasha keeps her voice as steady as she can.

"I, I, I dunno! Just keep going, okay?"

Yasha bites her left boob’s underside on the way down and Beau screams one last time. It’s an indulgent descent, Yasha milking all she can all of this, licking her way down Beau’s body up until the edge of her quickly dampening boyshorts. A fun thought crosses her mind and Yasha leans down to grab it with her teeth and snap it back against Beau’s abs. She jolts up, a shrill whimper escaping her lips quickly, and she looks down at Yasha with a surprised little frown of her brows. Yasha grins, noting how her hands tightened against the bed sheets.

A little too please with herself, Yasha finally gets to her goal, slipping down Beau’s underwear by the sides, only to scrape her nails down Beau’s hips. Lastly, there it is, Beau’s fully naked self laid in front of Yasha and the hunger strikes again, her mouth watering at the meal before her. It’s a pretty sight, Beau’s dark skin framing perfectly a tangle of trimmed curls, glistening with unadulterated arousal. Yasha’s plan was to tease Beau a little further, but before she knows it, she’s pulling Beau’s knee over her shoulder and diving in. 

For all these years, Yasha always wondered what Beau would taste like and the answer is heavenly. She so wet at this point that Yasha’s chin gets instantly coted with her juices and she laps it all, everywhere she can get her lips on. Then, Beau’s hands find her hair, weekly pulling against her roots, and Yasha probes further with her tongue, going over all the things she’d fantasized of doing. With pleased whines, Beau lets her take her time to build a steady climb while exploring everywhere, Yasha getting lost and drenched into Beau.

It’s all too much, the noises of approval and the way Beau’s untamed hips knock over Yasha’s face now and again stealing her breath away, that Yasha can no longer ignore her own pleasure. In a particularly intense thrust that has Yasha gaging for air, she slithers her hand inside her jeans and runs two fingers furiously against herself, stuck in a place of too much and not enough at once. Beau seems to notice this, right at the same time Yasha decides her hand may not be enough this time, and Yasha pulls back her wet hand to grab Beau’s thigh a tad too tightly, going back to that sweet, sweet grinding for now. Her other hand, though, keeps on task, sliding up Beau’s thigh and searching for Beau’s lips. Yasha gasps, impressed at how wet Beau still is after all her sucking.

“I feel like you could take all of my fingers but you would break down before that” Yasha says, the thought slipping from her lips.

Under her, Yasha feels Beau keen, hips thrashing against her fingers, so Yasha lets her have one. Beau moans, and squeals, effectively encouraging her to increase the pace, but Yasha holds on before sinking back with her lips, enjoying the view some more. That, plus, her own climb to pleasure is getting back on track with her grinding against Beau’s held thigh, so much so her fingers dig into the lean muscle, her hand scratching the skin that’s pulling.

Beau relishes on the pain, unsurprisingly, and Yasha pushes further, another finger, then a third, then a change in angle that has Beau screaming. They keep at a frantic pace, Beau giving into everything that’s happening and Yasha giving her all between thrusts, licks, bites until Beau tenses impossibly too tight. Yasha trains her eyes on Beau’s face, watching as she creases her brows further, and further, stuck in a second of timelessness, then softens, a lone twitch, now and then, eyes fluttering as they return back from where they rolled to the back of her head. Yasha guides her through it, sliding her fingers out and cleaning up the mess with her tongue, soft tastes of that special flavor.

Her own arousal, though, only increases as Beau relaxes back down, enraptured by the beauty of the woman before her. Her breaths get exasperated again so she shoves her hand back down into them, holding herself up with a hand next to Beau’s face. There, her thumb runs in circle over Beau’s cheek, as does her other thumb over her clit, hips thrusting against the recovering body beneath. It’s crass, and impolite, but Yasha lets her wildest instincts dictate that which could be the last minutes of this once in a lifetime affair. She’s already saying goodbye to this when Beau’s hand tease at her breasts again, giving her a bite to the ear for encouragement.

“You got this, hot stuff. Go ahead” Beau whispers harshly.

“I, I,” Yasha babbles, too far gone too express she doesn’t want this to end, and kisses Beau again, rutting and grinding against her fingers with all she has before finally tipping over the edge with a long groan. Shuddering, she can’t hold on anymore, so she falls on top of Beau, but the other seems unaffected by the large frame covering hers. On the contrary, Beau embraces her, brushing her hair away and tracing a finger over her neck.

“I could die right now” Yasha mumbles into Beau’s hair.

“What?” 

“I liked that.” Yasha says louder, mustering up the energy to roll over and let Beau breathe. Beau instantly rests a hand over her lungs, making Yasha feel guilty for collapsing on her, but Beau speaks before she can apologize.

“Dude, that was awesome.”

Yasha has to agree, bashfully “It was kind of great.”

“Dude, that was awesome! You totally crushed. We totally crushed it.” Beau puts both hands behind her head “If let me catch my breath, we can keep going.”

“Oh. I’m ok” Yasha answers, unsure how it could get any better than this “I’m great.”

“Ok. I’ll let it slide, but only because you wore me out already.”

Yasha laughs lowly, enjoying the last seconds of this, but her eyes close with uncertainty. She does her best to dial down her hopes of what will happen next and turns over to talk, but Beau’s already drift off. Yasha watches her for a while, the way she sleeps with one arm over the head and the other twisted around her waist. She follows the lines of her lean muscles, so different from her own, defined but barely there, a fleeting sight when they flex with Beau’s even breathing. In the end, it’s Beau’s breathing that lulls her to sleep, a rare, peaceful one.


End file.
